


Roses

by MAYH3M



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 09:52:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13901523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAYH3M/pseuds/MAYH3M
Summary: Ficlet set during the events of Ms Softbroom. Pippa, HB, and maglet messages.The first one is only one word, a cursive ‘Pipsqueak!’ across the face of the device.The second one is even shorter, just ‘Hello!’.The third is a smiling face.This is... unsettling.





	Roses

The maglet chimes, chimes again, and then a third time without pause. Brow furrowed, Pippa pushes aside the paper she had been grading and reaches for the device, other hand automatically adjusting her reading glasses. It’s _Hecate_ — in the middle of the day, when she definitely has a class to teach— Pippa feels worry slither up her spine as she opens the messages.

 

The first one is only one word, a cursive ‘Pipsqueak!’ across the face of the device.

 

The second one is even shorter, just ‘Hello!’.

 

The third is a smiling face.

 

This is... unsettling.

 

Pippa picks up the stylus, considers for a long moment before writing down, ‘Hiccup? Should I mirror?’ and sending it away with three decisive taps.

 

‘Sure!’ is the immediate response. Followed by, ‘Actually, hang on.’

 

 _Hang on?_   Pippa thinks, and then wonders if it might be a prank. A student could have gotten her hands on… but no, unlikely that they would know their nicknames. What, then?

 

Hecate had mentioned Ms Cackle’s hearing when they mirrored earlier in the week, and Pippa knows Council politics enough to know the priorities of that dog and pony show. Knows Hecate well enough to know she will wind herself tighter and tighter until it’s over. The last time they had barely spoken for five minutes before Hecate had excused herself, citing duties that she had undoubtedly taken on herself to aid Ms Cackle; honestly Pippa had not expected any contact until after the situation was resolved, let alone contact that Hecate initiated herself.

 

A few minutes pass as Pippa _hangs on_ , and when there are no more chimes she returns to the papers, circling an elementary mistake that an Year Four really should not make. She forces herself to wait and correct one more paper before she sends a message to Hecate again.

 

‘Is everything alright?’

 

The maglet chimes before she has put it down. ‘Absolutely!’ and then, ‘Pip, how do you feel about roses?’

 

‘You know I love roses, Hiccup, what is going on?’

 

‘I do too!’ These exclamation marks are almost as perplexing as the contents of these messages, Pippa thinks. She is beginning to wonder if she’s in some sort of surreal dream when the next message arrives. ‘Do you suppose Ms Doomstone might as well? I don’t think Ms Drill is very fond of them.’

 

And then, even more inexplicably, a frowning face.

 

‘They sent Doomstone?’ she sends, the confusion giving way to worry now. ‘What are you doing messing about with roses?’ she adds, when she receives no message. She waits a few minutes before sending ‘Hiccup?’ There’s nothing, no reply. If Ms Doomstone is there, Pippa cannot risk doing something that puts them at any further risk; Cackle’s is already too disaster-prone. She goes back to her grading. Or tries to, anyway, before pushing her chair back and staring at the ceiling. She needs to know that everything is alright.

 

Pippa walks to the mirror at the corner of her office and mutters the incantation, looking into Hecate’s office, which is empty. She switches to Hecate’s own rooms, which are likewise empty. She debates looking into the Potions classrooms— _just a quick peek_ , she decides. Children— Ethel Hallow with some girls she assumes are Year Ones exit the room leaving it empty, and the door shuts behind them. Oh _dear_.

 

An hour, Pippa tells herself. If she gets no reply within an hour, she’ll mirror the staff room and speak with whomever she can to find out what is _wrong_.

 

Fortunately, her maglet chimes after half that time. ‘Yes, Ms Doomstone was indeed here. We passed.’ is the first message. And the second is ‘What roses?’

 

‘You said’, Pippa begins to write, then stops. She cannot convince Hecate Hardbroom that she sent Pippa messages about roses in the middle of a school inspection. Pippa can hardly convince herself of that, let alone write a sentence to that effect. It must have been a prank after all, or— she can attempt to find out when they speak face-to-face next, she decides. Erasing what she had written, ‘Never mind.’, she writes instead. ‘Congratulations.’

 

‘No need, there’s the hearing yet.’ She gets back. And then, after a minute. ‘Thank you.’

 

Pippa smiles, and returns to her grading. With that and classes and the staff meeting, she puts the incident to the back of her mind until much later, after dinner and rounds when she retires for the evening. The scent of roses greets her when she opens the door to her bedroom, and there are about a dozen red roses in a vase on her dresser.

 

What roses, indeed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
